Ship: matsukawa issei/hanamaki takahiro Fandom: haikyuu Major Tags: none Other Tags: hello it's me, i've been crying over seijoh third years again Square: never again Word Count: 437
i was gonna go with "we're never going to play on the same court, with the same team, ever again" but i don't hate myself that much
***
“Never again,” Hanamaki groans, and Issei laughs.
They’re sitting on the stairs outside the gym—or, Issei is sitting, while Hanamaki is sprawled out across on the ground. His eyes are closed, face scrunched up in a grimace, the very picture of a sore loser. His hair is flat with sweat, sticking to his forehead and making him look about six years old.
“I’m never challenging Iwaizumi again,” he says. “I can’t feel my arms. Did they fall off? Matsukawa, my arms fell off. I have to sue Iwaizumi now.”
“Aw, thank you.” Hanamaki peeks open one eye. “They might be fine but they’re weaaaak. Why didn’t you stop me, Mattsun? Why did you let me suffer against Iwaizumi like that.” “Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?”
Hanamaki kicks him in the shin. He flops backwards onto the concrete step he’s stretched out on. “Why is Iwaizumi so strong, Matsukawa. What kind of a monster is he.”
“Maybe he’s an alien.”
“Is that why Oikawa is always all over him?”
Issei shrugs, not that Hanamaki can see. He leans back on his hands, tilting his head up towards the sky. It’s a beautiful day, blue skies all around and not a cloud in sight. They should probably find some shade before they get sunburned, but for now, he doesn’t want to move. Issei closes his eyes, and allows himself to soak in the sunshine.
“Hey, Matsukawa.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think...”
“Yeah, pretty sure I do.”
Hanamaki kicks him again, but this time, lets his foot rest on Issei’s knee. Issei places a hand on his ankle, and they stay like that for a couple heartbeats. He waits as Hanamaki collects his thoughts.
“We’re a good team, aren’t we?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re going to beat Shiratorizawa, and Karasuno, and go to nationals.”
There’s a note of urgent hope in Hanamaki’s words. It’s strange, because he’s used to hearing those words—spoken like a mantra, ringing with radiant confidence like they had to, like it’s inevitable because they’re going to make it happen—from Oikawa, but here is Hanamaki, still with his eyes covered by his arms, saying them quietly, determinedly.
Issei can only agree.
“We’re going to nationals,” he says, and his hand squeezes Hanamaki’s ankle once, before he lets go completely.
It’s quiet between them for a while, until Hanamaki shifts, lifting his arm to squint at the sky.
“Hey, Mattsun. You think Iwaizumi and Oikawa got lost on their way to the vending machines?”
Issei laughs. He slaps Hanamaki on the leg. “Let’s go find them, then.”
FILL: team akaashi keiji/bokuto koutarou, B1, [G]
Fandom: haikyuu
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: hello it's me, i've been crying over seijoh third years again
Square: never again
Word Count: 437
i was gonna go with "we're never going to play on the same court, with the same team, ever again" but i don't hate myself that much
***
“Never again,” Hanamaki groans, and Issei laughs.
They’re sitting on the stairs outside the gym—or, Issei is sitting, while Hanamaki is sprawled out across on the ground. His eyes are closed, face scrunched up in a grimace, the very picture of a sore loser. His hair is flat with sweat, sticking to his forehead and making him look about six years old.
“I’m never challenging Iwaizumi again,” he says. “I can’t feel my arms. Did they fall off? Matsukawa, my arms fell off. I have to sue Iwaizumi now.”
“I don’t think you’d win,” Issei replies. “Your arms are fine.”
“Aw, thank you.” Hanamaki peeks open one eye. “They might be fine but they’re weaaaak. Why didn’t you stop me, Mattsun? Why did you let me suffer against Iwaizumi like that.”
“Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?”
Hanamaki kicks him in the shin. He flops backwards onto the concrete step he’s stretched out on. “Why is Iwaizumi so strong, Matsukawa. What kind of a monster is he.”
“Maybe he’s an alien.”
“Is that why Oikawa is always all over him?”
Issei shrugs, not that Hanamaki can see. He leans back on his hands, tilting his head up towards the sky. It’s a beautiful day, blue skies all around and not a cloud in sight. They should probably find some shade before they get sunburned, but for now, he doesn’t want to move. Issei closes his eyes, and allows himself to soak in the sunshine.
“Hey, Matsukawa.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think...”
“Yeah, pretty sure I do.”
Hanamaki kicks him again, but this time, lets his foot rest on Issei’s knee. Issei places a hand on his ankle, and they stay like that for a couple heartbeats. He waits as Hanamaki collects his thoughts.
“We’re a good team, aren’t we?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re going to beat Shiratorizawa, and Karasuno, and go to nationals.”
There’s a note of urgent hope in Hanamaki’s words. It’s strange, because he’s used to hearing those words—spoken like a mantra, ringing with radiant confidence like they had to, like it’s inevitable because they’re going to make it happen—from Oikawa, but here is Hanamaki, still with his eyes covered by his arms, saying them quietly, determinedly.
Issei can only agree.
“We’re going to nationals,” he says, and his hand squeezes Hanamaki’s ankle once, before he lets go completely.
It’s quiet between them for a while, until Hanamaki shifts, lifting his arm to squint at the sky.
“Hey, Mattsun. You think Iwaizumi and Oikawa got lost on their way to the vending machines?”
Issei laughs. He slaps Hanamaki on the leg. “Let’s go find them, then.”